the last time i fell in love
by planet p
Summary: THE GIFT -- Annie/Buddy.


**the last time i fell in love** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Gift_ or any of its characters.

**Author's Notes** Annie/Buddy.

* * *

She was in the kitchen, rolling out biscuit dough, covered in sweat and flour, when she felt the arm go around her middle, and the head rest itself gently on her back. She didn't need to turn to know who it was, and to know that he was no longer among the living. She was happy, in a way, that he'd come back to her, but sad, also, that he'd not moved on.

Buddy came back to see her regularly, after that, just to be there with her, and to hold her. She never turned to make sure that it was him, she knew that it was. It had to be about the twentieth time it had happened, when Annie sensed a change. Buddy's arm had loosened around her middle, and his hand had come to rest on her abdomen.

She didn't care for it much, but she decided to let it pass. Until suddenly she was whirled around and pressed, back against the refrigerator door, and there was Buddy's face, plain as day, just as if he'd not died, staring back at her.

"You've always been a friend to me, Annie," Buddy told her, his face close to hers.

Annie could only stare at him, wide eyed, and agree, "Yes, I have, Buddy." The knife she'd been cutting with had dropped to the floor, and she was afraid that if one of the children came in, that they'd step on the blade and cut their foot.

"Will you do me this one las' favour?" Buddy asked, watching her intently.

"And what is that, Buddy?" Annie asked, thinking about how to pick the knife up without alarming or upsetting Buddy.

Buddy leant in closer to the refrigerator, and she felt an uncomfortable press of energy as he drew nearer. "I never kissed a girl before," he confessed, and Annie nearly banged the back of her head on the refrigerator door in her shock.

"A-alright, Buddy," she stammered, "I think what you want is for me to kiss you, is that what you want?"

"Yes, ma'am- Annie," Buddy replied.

Annie nodded hesitantly and then dropped her gaze over Buddy's shoulder toward the floor. "I-I have to pick that there knife up off the floor first, if you please, then I'll see about- about what it is you want, Buddy," she told him.

Buddy turned at glanced at the knife. "O' course," he breathed, after a moment, and stepped back from Annie to allow her some space.

She scooted away from the refrigerator door, but not too close to Buddy, and bent to pick up the knife and wiped it on her skirt before placing square in the middle of the table, hopefully out of reach of children's prying fingers.

When she turned back around, Buddy was standing so close that she almost stood on him. She leant backward violently, and reached up and hand to place on her chest, but Buddy caught it instead, and placed it on his chest, wrapped up in his own hand, as though it were a favourite possession.

"You been real good to me, Annie," he said. "I don't wanna upset you. If you don't wanna, you can jus' say 'No' and I'll un'erstand."

Annie shook her head. "No, I think I'll be alright, Buddy," she reassured him.

"Well, okay," Buddy hastily agreed, and became still.

Annie figured he was waiting for her to kiss him, so she stepped up to him, still somewhat hesitant, and still not in possession of one of her hands, and pressed her lips softly against his, which tasted of fizzy fruit-flavoured Life Savers.

Buddy didn't move an inch when she kissed him, just stood stock still and let her do it, which she was thankful for.

She stepped back a moment later, awkwardly, and nodded. "Th-that's how it's done," she said uneasily.

"Thank you, Annie," Buddy told her happily, and Annie believed that that was the last she would be hearing from him. Now, finally, he'd be able to move on.

She felt happy that she'd been able to help.

* * *

It was the night of the local dance that Annie next saw Buddy. She'd had a tad too much to drink, and, as she stumbled toward the restrooms, she felt someone take a good, strong hold of her to stop her from tumbling over her own feet, and, when she'd gotten her footing back, she looked up to see that it was Buddy, dressed in something fitting of the occasion and looking very handsome, she thought.

"Why, thank you, Buddy," she slurred, allowing him to steer her in the direction of the ladies restroom when she headed for the mens.

In the restroom, she sat down at one of the toilets and waited for the dizziness in her head to clear, before approaching the basins to splash water on her face. Thankfully, the rest of the restroom was empty, save for Buddy and herself, though she still felt moderately embarrassed. Poor Buddy, he must have been disappointed in her. She lifted her face to weigh his mood, but his expression was pleasant, his mouth turned into a mild smile.

"Thank you so much," she said again. "I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't for you, Buddy. You've been such a help. I don't know how to thank you enough. Oh, thank you." The alcohol was making her ramble, she knew, yet, she couldn't seem to stem the flow of words jumbling out of her mouth.

She lurched forward suddenly, to her feet, and Buddy was there to catch her arm and stop her from hitting the floor, and to guide her to one of the basins where she was sick.

When she'd finally finished purging her stomach, she decided it'd probably be best if she left the partying to someone else for the night, and walked unsteadily back to her car, Buddy helping her on her way with on hand at her elbow, and another at her back.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep on the backseat.

* * *

She woke at 2 A.M. and wondered how she was possibly going to explain to the sitter, and to her boys, why she'd stayed out so late. It would be easier just to make something up, to say that she'd had car trouble, but she didn't think it'd hold, or that it was the right thing to do, either way. She owed her boys the truth; she'd have expected the same courtesy from them, after all, and though there was an age difference, and she was their mother, she believed in setting the right example.

She sat up and found that, apart from a pounding head, and a little bit of grogginess, which was beginning to wane, surprisingly, the sick feeling she'd earlier experienced had abated. After a few moments, she pushed the back door open and stood in the chill air. It was might snappy, but it seemed to do her some good, so she took a walk for some minutes, before returning to her parked car, her head feeling clearer, though she was now shivering uncontrollably. She'd have to get inside her car and turn the heater on for a few minutes before she drove anywhere.

* * *

She'd probably driven about two miles, when, as if it'd heard her earlier thoughts, her car stalled. She tried to start it again, but it wasn't having a bar of it, and she looked under the bonnet, but she couldn't tell, in the dark, if anything was wrong or not.

She couldn't do anything but be glad that'd she pulled over on the side of the road before the car had stalled, and that she'd not dropped her purse somewhere when she'd been drunk.

She got out of the car and began walking. She'd likely not be able to make it home tonight at all, now, she thought, it was too cold to walk the distance, so she'd probably have to stay overnight at the motel she could see up ahead by its light.

* * *

The motel room was almost as cold as outside, but she soon found the heater and the button with which to switch it on, and planted herself in front of it for ten minutes to heat up again. When she was finally able to move again, she left the heater on and moved to the wardrobe and the bed.

The manager hadn't been overly happy to have to get out of bed so late, but he'd done so anyway, so she supposed she had that to be thankful for, at least, even though the room hadn't come cheap.

She decided that she'd have a shower in the morning.

She took the blankets from the wardrobe and shut the wardrobe door and walked to the bed and spread the blanket out over the mattress and lay down, snuggling in under the blanket.

* * *

She woke again at 4 A.M., and glanced across at the digital clock which told her the time. She'd started to feel slightly ill again, and stood up to pour herself a glass of water.

The water was icy cold and its coldness hurt her teeth and her mouth, but she finished the glass and replaced it, upside down, in the sink, before walking back to the bed.

She reached her hand up to cover her mouth, as soon as she realised who it must be sitting on the bed, and that he wasn't going to harm her, and the scream was cut short, muffled by her hand. She gently took up on the mattress beside him, and explained that she was fine, and that he'd been lovely. Her car, of course, hadn't been as lovely. It'd broken down, and now she was here.

Buddy smiled at her and placed his hand over hers and gently squeezed her hand.

With her free hand, she reached up and touched his arm, and thanked him again for all of his help. He'd been great.

Outside, the wind had picked up, and she listened to the sound of it against the window, for a moment, and on the roof, and leant across to proffer a kiss onto Buddy's cheek, only, it was at that exact moment that he turned, and her kiss ended up more on his mouth than his cheek.

He only watched her for a moment, suddenly as still as she was, and they both listened to the storm building outside.

After a long moment, Annie removed her hand from under Buddy's and started to lean away at the same time that Buddy leaned toward her to whisper that he was sorry, and, with a little cry, she fell back on the mattress, Buddy on top of her.

She put her hand up to cover her mouth again, apologetic, and hoping she'd not startled him by crying out. She stared up at him, eyes like little saucers, and waited for her heart to settle before she spoke to apologise.

Buddy stared at her, too, and then he lifted a hand up off the mattress and reached over to take her hand from her mouth.

Annie didn't say anything as he did this, she wasn't quite sure what she should say, beside, so she just stared at him.

When he'd removed his hand, he dipped his face down toward hers slowly and pressed his lips against hers. For some reason, they were warm, and tasted, instead of fizzy and fruit-flavoured, of liquorice and musk sticks. Annie smiled underneath the kiss and her lips parted and Buddy deepened the kiss.

Annie was too shocked to do anything, but she felt Buddy shift on top of her, as though trying to find a more comfortable position for his legs, and his chest pressed against hers, and she felt him stiffened, his nipples hardening. He sat abruptly, breaking the kiss, and Annie sucked in a deep breath, her chest swelling with the air.

She wanted to say something nice, something consoling, that she hadn't really minded that he'd kissed, just if he wouldn't make it a regular occurrence, and she lifted her hand off the mattress in search of his own hand, but found, instead his thigh.

She patted his thigh nervously and gazed up at him. She heard the first sounds of raindrops of the roof, and her eyes flickered away from his, towards the source of the tiny pittering, that soon became a deep, dull roar against the roof.

Buddy leant forward and pressed his weight onto his hands and arms, and swung his leg over hers, to step off the bed, and on the bed, Annie lowered her eyes from the ceiling and pushed herself into a sitting position, gazing at Buddy's back through the darkness. "You don't have to go," she told him softly, and she watched his shoulders stiffen.

"I think that I do," he replied civilly to the darkness of the empty room in front of him, back still turned to her.

"Oh, Buddy, it was just a kiss," Annie assured him in a sad croon.

He spun about and was back on the bed back on top of her faster than she had time to draw breath. "What if that ain't all I wanted it to be?" he breathed, so close to her face that she felt his breath brush her lips. "What if I wanted it to be more?"

Annie gazed at him, unable to articulate a response.

Buddy regarded her a moment longer, and then began to withdraw, straightening his back once more.

Annie sucked in a breath, her gaze remaining on his face. "Okay," she murmured.

* * *

Annie groaned into the skin of Buddy's throat, scraping her hands across his back, hair scattered across her face, and some of it sticking to the insides of her mouth. She dropped her hands, slick with sweat, to the bottom of Buddy's back, and gripped the little depression at the small of his back, groaning harder, her breath coming out in hard, little puffs of warm air.

Buddy thrust into her, hard and fast, and she bucked against him and shuddered, little bits of spittle pooling at the corners of her lips.

He bent down to kiss her, and sucked on her bottom lip, trusting harder.

Annie's hands slid from his back and she dug her fingers into the backs of his calves.

He grunted and took hold of her hands and held them over her head, moving his mouth from her lips to the side of her jaw and then her neck. He rested a hand on her breast and ran circles around her nipple with his thumb.

Annie moaned and wrapped her legs around him tightly.

* * *

Annie woke at 7 A.M., showered, and handed the keys in at the little box, locking up the motel room behind her, and began walking. It wasn't so cold now, though the road was slick with wet, and the side of the road, which she was walking on, muddy.

She had absolutely no idea why she'd done what she'd done last night, but now she didn't want to think about it. It hadn't been bad, and she didn't hate having done it, she just didn't want to think about it; it was too confusing. So she walked, trying not to slip in the mud, and didn't think about it.

Instead, she thought about what she'd say to her kids, and how she'd have to get the car towed to a mechanics, and how she wasn't looking forward to the pricetag attached to that at all.

* * *

Reaching her house, she opened the door and went inside, glad to be out of the morning cold, and the wind and mud, and set to heating up some water, and when the sitter woke, to offering her a coffee and explaining about how her car'd broken down, and then it'd started on getting' all cold and ready for stormin', and how she'd taken a room in a motel for the night.

She thanked the sitter for staying the night and offered her breakfast, asked how the kids'd been, and offered to pay he extra if she'd drive the kids into school when they woke and had breakfast.

The sitter agreed, and Annie returned to the kitchen to make up the kids' lunches and pack them into their lunchboxes.

She was liking the idea of the broken down car less and less by the minute.

* * *

It was a while, and a packet, before the car was able to be driven again, but Annie made sure to pay it all off at the time; she didn't like the idea of interest, and resigned to taking extra readings, though it often tired her.

A month after that, she took the car down to the supermarket to apply for a job, and was eventually given a job cleaning, which wasn't going to improve her state of tiredness, but would improve her kids' chances of having dinner on the table and new school uniforms in time for the summer, and maybe some new socks or mittens for winter.

* * *

At 12, Annie sat down out the back of the supermarket to eat her packed lunch, a sandwich and sultana cupcake. She'd bought the sultanas cheap at the local market the week before, and had made them into a cupcakes for her kids to take to school for recess snack.

She crossed her arms against the chill of the cloudy day, and the spot she was sitting in in that shade, and picked a sultana out of her cupcake and put it in her mouth and chewed it slowly.

She was even more tired than usual with having to work the cleaning job and give extra readings and help her eldest with his homework and the one coffee she'd had that morning hadn't seemed to have done anything. She'd've packed a thermos flask of coffee, if she been able to find the old thermos flask, though, likely, it was too old and damaged now to be used anymore.

She sighed, when she'd finished the cupcake, and picked herself up off the bench she'd taken seat on, and walked back toward the entrance to the building; back to work.


End file.
